


DRGN

by Sjm32



Category: RWBY
Genre: DRGN
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 08:28:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17342015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sjm32/pseuds/Sjm32
Summary: A young Haven student arrives at a bar to get information on his missing father Hercules Argentum. He runs into trouble at the bar.





	1. Silver Prologue

Silver Prologue  
It was a cold night in the city of Mistral. The streets were sparsely populated with some families that walked the streets. Those streets were also lined with the selling of many illegal goods and various sketchy criminals. They avoided some of the more protected families but they did rob the loners on the street, all of them except one. This was a huntsman-in-training.  
He was a seven-foot giant bristling with strength. On top of his head was a simple helmet whose top extended outwards and sported a thick half-ring on the top. It also had some minor face protection and revealed some of his silver hair. He also wore a steel cuirass covering his gray shirt and that sported a simplistic sword pointing downwards, impaling a crude grim. It was the symbol of the Argentum family. He wore a pair of khakis with long, black boots and on his waist, a massive, six-foot great sword with intricate wavy edges, a long cross guard, a smaller secondary guard above it and a leather grip. The pommel was short and circular. This was Draco Argentum, student of Haven.   
He took a right turn on the street and then turned right again into a bar labeled Hazel’s. He took a seat in front of the main table and a short, scruffy, middle-aged fox faunus walked towards him with his hazel eyes and dark brown fox ears focused intently on him and the man said,   
“Ah, if it isn’t the son of Hercules Argentum and our local troublemaker. Do you still prefer the usual Animan Whiskey?”  
“Why yes, Hazel Fennec. The place looks better than I left it last.” Draco answered  
“That’s only because I meticulously cleaned everything! Do you know how many months it took to get the ceiling cleaned for somebody my size? You did represent us well in the Vytal festival this spring, I’ll give you that, though.” Hazel said as he poured the whiskey.  
“I’m not only here for your drinks and good company, Hazel. I promise to keep your place cleaner, however.”  
“Good. But if your reason is concerning your missing father, you’ll get nothing. I’ve told you everything I know and it’s not like I’ve coaxed any leads out of my customers.”  
“I was thinking of coaxing the leads out myself, thank you very much. You know anybody that might be keeping that kind of information?” said the armored man as he sipped the whiskey.  
“Well if it isn’t Fennec’s big friend and Hercules’ little pet” said a deeper voice.  
“Yep. That’s me. You got a problem with that?” Draco asked as he turned around and saw many men in suits screened by suited women as well with a giant blonde man at their head.  
“I sure do!” said the man as he swung his fist at him.  
Highly imprecise, thought Draco as he carelessly dodged the punch. He quickly punched back, instantly knocking his head back. He quickly grabbed his neck with his spare arm and slammed him into the table, knocking him out. He quickly said to Hazel, “You might want to stay behind that table, friend” as he stood up from his stool and finished his whiskey. The other gang members charged in. Draco swiftly ducked under a sword strike and swung his great sword Grimgutter at a low angle, forcing a parry. The sword shattered from the strike’s impact and he swung horizontally, sending his opponent flying. He then dropped his sword downward to parry another attack, sliding his blade up as he pommeled the next man. Next, He dodged an aggressive mace swing and a knife swing by jumping back. He swiftly sprang forward with a horizontal slash, knocking them to the side. Then, he swiftly noticed an agile yellow-suited woman jumping up from the crowd of charging gang members, firing dual pistols. He effortlessly sliced all the dust rounds and then gripped the cross guard of his sword and pulled the trigger on Grimgutter as several rounds came from the sword’s exposed barrel, forcing the nimble woman to dodge as several of her hapless comrades were struck with the dust rounds. A spearman charged forward, but Draco jumped onto the spear, pommeling him as he landed. He grabbed the man’s neck with his free arm and pulled him forward, jumping onto his back as he did so. He knew exactly where that woman had jumped to. He jumped up from the spearman and jetted out his legs in a vicious kick towards the woman. Dragon scales sprouted from his legs, increasing his strength tenfold. The impact sent her flying. More and more gang members charged Draco as he slashed and stabbed viciously. He advanced with every blow, knocking back one foe after another. Then someone roared deeply, “Enough!”  
The voice came from a powerful bull faunus. He was eight feet tall, towering even over the imposing Draco. Long, brown hair flowed down to his shoulders. The man was extremely muscular and bore a great two handed-axe on his shoulders. One of his horns was sliced off and there was a scar across his left eye. He advanced forward, grasping his axe in both hands.  
“Hello, Minos Barna. Apparently, my father didn’t shut you up well enough.”  
“Boy, you will pay for your insolence. Now prepare to die.”  
Minos leapt towards him with explosive force, creating a crater in the ground with the impact of his axe. Draco leapt away and barely stonewalled the following strike. Hazel shouted from behind the table, “You’re paying for that crater, Draco!”  
“I know.” Draco grumbled.  
He looked at his opponent as Minos advanced forward. He had never felt such power. He was a target in their sights. The only way to win this to truly feel invincible, but how? He wondered, he jumped over Minos’ next strike, crashing his blade into the axe. As he expected, the axe withstood the impact. He flipped over his opponent, kicking him back as he landed. He was ready now. He just had one strike. He had to strike with all his might and strike his opponent in the resulting opening. His aura was quite depleted. He did not know if he still had enough aura to cut through the axe but there were no other options. He pulled the trigger on Grimgutter, propelling himself with the recoil of the dust rounds. Minos responded with his own charge, raising his axe over his head as he prepared to strike. As the axe moved downward, the Haven student sidestepped and swung up, with dragon bones sprouting across his arms multiplying his strength. As the two weapons crashed, the axe’s shaft shattered with supreme force. Grimgutter’s angle changed, crashing into Minos’ shoulder, shattering Minos’ shoulder along with his opponent’s aura. He quickly knocked Minos out with his pommel as the Mistral police arrested some of Minos’ gang.  
A mop was tossed towards Draco and he caught it. Hazel screamed angrily at him,   
“You’re helping me clean this mess right now!”  
“I know, I know.” Draco muttered as he was sweeping. Suddenly, he saw a note that read:   
Draco, meet me outside this place in a week.  
Anonymous.


	2. Gold Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco's teammate arrives at a makeshift grave for practice.

Gold Prologue  
It was a cold night outside the city of Mistral. A short man sat on the snowy ground, reading. He wore golden robes and a coat on to keep out the cold. A pair of swords were strapped to an electrum belt and a quiver of many arrows. Owl horns poked up out of his green hair. He looked up at the makeshift grave in front of him. Several pictures adorned it. Some were burnt off at the corners and some were just worn by the years. The burnt pictures showed a happy family: his parents and him. The library in which they lived was beautiful, sprawling with countless books. He read them by the hundreds every week. Then he remembered the flames. A human mob had burnt down his house with his parents inside it, all over the death of Jean Gele, brother of Jacques Schnee. He cursed the White Fang who murdered him and framed it upon his parents. He lived on the streets for months as a lowly pickpocket, swiping whatever he could for food.  
Then, he robbed the huntsman Sigurd Nieblung. He took the man’s watch and the huntsman tracked him to his hideout and gave him an offer: come with him now or he was going to get turned over to the authorities. Under Sigurd, he had built Smiteworks, his pair of swords. They trained for some months with Ragnar learning everything that Sigurd knew. Then came a mission to protect some train cargo in Southeastern Anima. They did well at first, killing some ambushing grimm but out of nowhere, several White Fang planes ambushed them. Sigurd ensured Ragnar’s survival by hijacking one of the planes and sending him away. A tear streaked down his cheek as he caressed their only picture. How he wished he could reach for Sigurd’s hand again.  
Suddenly, he heard several terrible roars going across the terrain. Several beowolves and Alphas were approaching along with several Ursai. He stood up and drew his swords. He slowed his breathing. This was what he came for: practice. Three beowolves pounced at him, but they missed. Ragnar leaped upward and then returned to the ground with a flurry of slashes, effortlessly dispatching them. He cartwheeled away from an Ursa and threw one of his swords into its chest. The pin had been pulled out and the Ursa exploded. He focused for a second, instantly reconstructing his sword. He linked the two hilts and the drawstring deployed as he jumped back a few meters. He fired volley after volley, killing several with every explosive shot as the grimm advanced. He dodged an alpha’s charge and shot another arrow, freezing him in place as he decapitated the Alpha. He shot another arrow at an Ursa, exploding him. Suddenly, a beowolf struck him in the arm, sending him flying. There were no scratches thanks to his aura. He tried to pull out another arrow, but his quiver was empty.   
He slowed his breathing again. Then, he charged the grimm, his quiver replenished as he glowed gold, firing one arrow after another. More and more Grimm fell. He knew what he was doing: tapping into that same power that saved him when he lost Sigurd. The wild was still calling home. Moments later, he cut through the last Alpha and then he sheathed his swords, returning to Haven Academy and wondering from where he got such power.


End file.
